


in the woods somewhere

by halfire



Category: South Park
Genre: Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:41:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22462048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfire/pseuds/halfire
Summary: she was a stray.
Relationships: Karen McCormick & Firkle Smith, Karen McCormick/Firkle Smith
Kudos: 4





	in the woods somewhere

She was a stray. 

All black, besides the fleck of white on her face, and two piercing green eyes. 

She didn't like to be petted, but she'd sit besides him sometimes, in the evenings, when he'd break off bits of his sandwich and toss it onto the ground before her. She'd purr, and he'd smile, two equally rare occurrences.

Firkle never gave her a name. Didn't feel right to. Never told a soul about her. She was no one's.

They were walking home together. Karen lived farther out, but they had to head in the same direction.

There were kids. Older than them, meaner too. They stood on the sidewalk, hollering and cackling, and at first the two rolled their eyes, stepping out into the street to go around the group

Until they heard their words.

Until they glanced upon their actions. Rocks thrown hard towards the fences. 

Before Karen has the mind to grab his hand, Firkle lunges. His fist connects with the leader's face, sending the larger boy stumbling into his friends. 

A fight breaks out. Six on two are bad odds. Karen's not much of a fighter, but no one goes after her, anyways. 

The fight ends abruptly when Firkle manages to get his switchblade out of his pocket. 

Who hasn't heard the rumors that he's stabbed a cop?

The group slips away, but not before Firkle is shoved to the ground by a boy behind him.

Karen's crying. Firkle's cheek is bleeding, and soon he'll have a nasty black eye. He stands, a bit rickety. Karen rubs her eyes with her sleeve, smearing the little makeup she had around her eyes. 

"Are you okay?" Her voice is small, timid. Firkle says nothing. Wipes the blood from his face.

He turns, slowly. Towards the little body lying in the grass. Takes a few steps forward. (Karen follows, two steps behind.)

He kneels down before her, reaching out his hand, then hesitates. She hates being touched. 

But there's blood on the snow. 

She's not breathing. And for a minute, neither is he.

(He can hear Karen, vaguely. _"That poor thing."_ And a sniffle.)

He picks up her little body, carefully, as gently as can be. Holds her close. Tears fall down his cheeks as he rises to his feet. Karen reaches forward, holds his elbow. She's crying again.

"Will you," he starts. His voice cracks. "Can we go to the woods?"

She nods her head, more tears falling from her eyes, and the two begin a small march towards her home, and to the woods just beyond. 

Firkle lies her body down in a small clearing. Karen stays in the outskirts, watching as Firkle sets to work gathering leaves and stones, aligning them in patterns around the cat's body. 

Thirty minutes later, he stops. He approaches the little thing, kneeling down once more.

And he says his goodbyes. He thanks her for her time with him. Thanks her for the mice and birds she's dropped on his porch. For every meow and purr he'd heard from her. He apologizes. For not being able to protect her. To keep her safe. 

He doesn't pet her fur, which had since gone cold, because she didn't like to be petted. 

He wishes her goodbye. Tells her he loves her. 

And then he stands. Slowly, rigidly. Closes his eyes for a long moment. Then he turns, slowly makes his way back to Karen. 

As soon as he passes the threshold of the clearing, Karen pulls him into her arms, holding him close. He returns he embrace, after a moment. Presses his face against her shoulder. His body trembles, and she runs her hand against his back. 

"Do you want me to come over?" She asks. "We can watch a movie or something."

He nods his head slowly, and she gives him a tight squeeze. 

They stop at Karen's house first. She drags him into the tiny bathroom and she cleans his face of the dried blood. They take turns cleaning their faces of tear tracks and makeup and whatever else.

Karen dips away and changes into a pair of pajamas. (A worn out hoodie and a pair of plaid pajama pants.) She tells her mother she'll be back in the morning, without giving her time to argue, and they disappear out the front door. Walk the way back to Firkle's house.

His dad's at work, and his grandmother's at her knitting circle, so it's easy to sneak upstairs.

Firkle takes a shower, and then Karen. Wash away the filth of the day.

They crawl into Firkle's bed together. Curled up around each other, taking in each other's presence. Take comfort in their warmth. 

They watch a movie on Firkle's laptop, but neither pays much attention. They both fall asleep before the credits roll.

He thinks about the sharp green eyes he won't see again.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if there's any errors, i wrote this at one in the morning and didn't proofread. 
> 
> i always picture firkle as the kind to be intensely caring for animals, disregard his own well being to protect them.


End file.
